Those old black and white movies were true
by mellarkymia
Summary: When he kisses her, it feels like fire. Not raging, and untamed. But like long-forgotten ashes crumbling apart to reveal a still-burning ember. Modern AU. Rated M. Peeta visits Katniss every day she works at Capitol Video. Written for Prompts in Panem Round 6, Day 7: Black and White


The first time Peeta Mellark comes into Capitol Video, Katniss Everdeen is in a particularly bad mood.

It's not his fault. At least, not a first.

It's her alarm clock's, and her mom's, and her bus's, and that asshole Professor Heavensbee for refusing to take her late assignment.

"_Rules are rules," he told her serenely._

"_Fuck you," she thought._

And she's been thinking "fuck you" for most of the afternoon since. To her boss, Haymitch, who was somewhere between hungover and drunk when she slid into the small employee break room to grab her name tag and clock in.

To her first customer of the day, who seethed when she told him all their copies of _Iron Man 2_ were rented out.

To Darius, the asshole teller from the bank next door who came in, _again_, to try and chat her up during his break.

He finally leaves, after twenty minutes of trying to wear her down with awful jokes and offers for "a crazy night that will change your life," prove to be fruitless. And as he goes out, a new customer comes in. Blonde-hair, blue-eyes, Panem University t-shirt. He's built like a high school athlete that didn't quite make the transition into a collegiate all-star.

_Panem University_, she thinks bitterly, shaking her head. _What the hell is he doing all the way over on this side of town?_

The first thing she notices - really notices about him - is how white his teeth are. Perfectly straight as they chew absently on a piece of gum.

As he approaches the counter, a sort of hapless, apologetic smile on his face, she curbs the instinct to roll her eyes. Because she can already tell he's one of_those_ - well-mannered, well-adjusted young men who've been taught they can get whatever they want when they turn on the charm.

"Hi," he says, his voice gentle and deeper than she expects. His eyes flicker to the name tag fastened above her breastbone. "Katniss."

"Welcome to Capitol Video," she responds, fixing him with a blank stare that she knows couldn't be any less welcoming.

He seems unphased as he plows forward. "Thanks. Is there any way you could check to see if you have a movie in stock?"

Katniss sighs. She knows she shouldn't. But logging into their ancient computer system to locate a movie is at the very top of her list of things she hates to have to do.

"Sure. What's the movie?"

"_Battle Royale._"

She wrinkles her nose, then, torn. Because she's relieved she won't have to go into the computer after all - she knows for a fact they carry the movie. But she can't understand why this clean cut kid would _ever_ want to watch that movie.

"It's in the Foreign section," she murmurs, lifting her hand to gesture toward the small, dusty shelves near the back of the store. "Alphabetical order. You should be able to find it."

The young man breaks into a wide grin, which inexplicably irritates her more. "Oh man, thank you so much."

He almost sprints to the back of the small store and comes back a minute later, a nondescript white plastic DVD case in hand.

"Found it. You're awesome. Thank you."

She shrugs, moving to the computer station to begin the process of ringing him up. "Do you have your membership card?"

Another big grin. _Ugh. _"Oh, I don't have a membership. Um, what do I need to do to sign up?"

This time, Katniss can't help it. She rolls her eyes. Because she can't remember the last time they had a new member sign up. She doesn't even know where the damn forms are.

"I'll be right back," she mutters, stalking out from behind the counter to go track her drunk boss down.

He's almost asleep in the back room, head on top of a pile of invoices.

She barks his name to wake him up, and he seems just as surprised as she is when she tells him what she needs.

But she returns to the storefront two minutes later, a slightly crumpled membership form in hand, and thrusts it at the PU kid, along with an old ballpoint pen.

"Fill this out," she instructs.

Five minutes later, she's managed to scrounge up an old laminated Capitol Video card, and he's handing the form back to her.

While she methodically inputs his name - Peeta Mellark - and his address - Collins Dormitory, Room 12 - into their computer, he glances around the store.

"It looks like you've got a lot of cool movies here," he tells her.

Another shrug. "Yeah." And then she can't help herself. Because he's making her use the damn computer. Because he's renting a movie she hates. Because today just _sucks_. "Not sure why you're getting this one."

He _laughs_. Which only pisses her off more. "Yeah? What's wrong with it?"

She makes a face, glancing up at him as she waits for the computer to save his information. "What isn't wrong with it? The premise is awful. Kids fighting to the death? Why subject yourself to that?"

Peeta Mellark is still laughing, and nodding slightly in agreement now. "It's for my International Film Class. I kinda missed the first day, and we're expected to keep up with the syllabus. I went all around town trying to find it, but I guess the other kids who missed beat me to all the other locations."

Katniss raises an eyebrow at him. "What about Netflix?"

Peeta almost looks surprised. "I don't have my Internet hooked up yet."

She exhales, then, loudly as she takes the DVD case from him to scan it. "It just seems like you went to an awful lot of trouble for such a crappy movie."

He gives her a curious look as he reaches for his wallet. "Well, at least I found it, right?"

Katniss accepts the $3 he gives her for the rental before handing him the case. "Due back in five days."

* * *

><p>Peeta is back the next day, movie in hand. He looks almost relieved to see her.<p>

"You were right," he says as he hands the movie back to her. "It was awful. Definitely not my kind of movie."

"There's a drop-box outside," she tells him, her tone as bland as her expression.

"I know," he replies. "You just struck me as the type of person that likes to hear she was right."

Katniss watches him peruse the shelves, taking his time, exploring the titles.

It's not normal to have a customer that doesn't know what he wants. Usually, their patrons only stop by as a last resort, just like Peeta did yesterday. When they can't stream the latest new release online, and the Redbox at the grocery store is sold out.

He approaches the counter a few minutes later, several cases in hand. And it annoys her that this time, he's managed to pick a few winners.

He hands over his shiny new membership card, looking at her like he's waiting for more commentary.

"This one's okay," she admits as she scans _The Usual Suspects_.

"Okay?" He responds, with a lift of his eyebrow. "It's a classic."

She rolls her eyes. Which seems to be her go-to move where Peeta Mellark is concerned.

She piles the rest of his choices - _American Beauty_, _Seven_, _L.A. Confidential_ - on top of the counter and waits for him to assemble his payment.

"Big Kevin Spacey fan?"

He grins. "The biggest."

She doesn't tell him she is, too.

* * *

><p>Katniss pulls a shift at Capitol Video almost every day. Usually after her classes a Panem Community College, but before her sister gets home from soccer practice. Three hours here, four hours there… it adds up, at least, to a little bit of extra money. Which they always need.<p>

And, she finds, Peeta Mellark comes into the store almost every day. Which is weird, and stupid, given that it's a solid 15 minute drive across town from the campus. And after three weeks, there's no way he doesn't have Internet by now.

Since she started working three years ago, Katniss has found that you can tell a lot about a person based on their movie taste. And she has an almost impossible time figuring out Peeta Mellark for exactly that reason.

Sometimes, it's standard fare - ridiculous buddy comedies, or the latest installment of some stupid action franchise.

But then one day he asks her to ring up _The 400 Blows_. And another time, it's_Memento_.

"For film class?" She can't help but ask.

He shakes his head. "For me."

* * *

><p>Katniss hates her uniform. Despises it. The crisp, uncomfortable white dress shirt and stiff, starchy black slacks. She's asked Haymitch a hundred times why she even needs to wear it anymore. They get maybe a dozen customers when she's there, and none of them seem particularly concerned with what the girl ringing up their microwave popcorn and Sandra Bullock movie is wearing.<p>

One day, unseasonably hot for late September, Katniss decides to stage a rebellion, ditching the awful, suffocating shirt for a loose fitting green tank-top blouse.

Haymitch doesn't even notice. But Katniss is relieved to go through her shift without dripping sweat.

Peeta comes in to drop off _Battleship_ and pick up _Good Will Hunting_.

"You make no sense," she scowls at him.

He offers her a boyish smile. "Gotta keep you on your toes."

It makes her feel strange, his response. Like he thinks about her. Like him coming in, day after day, has _anything_ to do with her.

"I like your shirt," he says before he leaves.

She's mad at herself for only kind-of hating that he noticed.

* * *

><p>In mid-October, three days pass without a visit from Peeta Mellark.<p>

Katniss doesn't worry. Absolutely not.

Does she wonder? Maybe.

It's just strange. And like it or not, he's become a real part of her daily routine. Someone she expects to see.

Besides, he only has a few more hours before he's going to incur his first late fee. And you know, college student budgets. She wouldn't want him to have to pay even more than he already has to their hole-in-the-wall operation.

She hopes he's okay.

Katniss leaves work in the worst mood _ever_ after she finds his latest selection,_Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid_, sitting lonely in the return box.

* * *

><p>"Exams are awful," he tells her when he comes in the following week, bags under his eyes and just the slightest hint of stubble on his cheeks. Almost like it's an explanation for his absence. "I've barely had time to breathe."<p>

"I have a hard time believing film school exams could be all that difficult," she shoots back, hoping to mask the irritating relief she feels at finally seeing him with her usual brand of disdain.

He emits something that sounds like a laugh. "I'm not a film major. I'm pre-law."

And somehow, that doesn't add up to her - the little things she's picked up about him. Even though she still hasn't entirely been able to figure him out, she knows she can't picture the boy with the vintage Pink Floyd t-shirt, the one who made his way through Werner Herzog's entire filmography in a week, as a_lawyer_.

She doesn't tell him that. Instead, she just says, "Well maybe if you didn't spend all your time watching movies, you'd actually be able to get some learning in."

She hates how much she likes his laugh.

* * *

><p>When he comes in the night before Halloween, she tells him he'll have to go somewhere else to get his horror movie fix.<p>

"We're all sold out. Even the bad ones."

"The bad ones?" He muses, as he approaches the counter.

"Like, _Evil Dead_ bad."

"Oh, you mean the _best_ ones," he says. And he winks at her.

She's glad he's already turned around and heading for the back of the store. That way he can't see her blush.

When he saunters back up in her direction a few minutes later and hands her _A Time to Kill_, she furrows her brow.

"Here, I thought you'd at least go with something _slightly_ spooky."

"What, you don't think racism and social inequality and the potential failure of our justice system is scary?" He asks. And though he's wearing that same amused grin, she almost thinks there's a hint of a real question behind his eyes. "To me, that's terrifying."

It makes sense, then. The lawyer thing. She can tell from a single off-handed comment that he's incredibly passionate about everything he just mentioned.

The realization warms her, somewhere between her heart and her stomach. In a place that makes her feel safe.

But she can't deal with _that_ right now. So she just nods.

"You're right. Super scary. You know what's not scary in this one, though? Matthew McCoughaney."

Peeta snickers in response. "You're a fan?"

She doesn't hesitate to grin back. "The biggest."

* * *

><p>"Question for you," he says nonchalantly, flipping his iPhone in his hand as she rings up <em>Bend it Like Beckham<em>.

"Like you need my permission to ask it?"

"You guys don't sell _videos_ here."

Katniss gives him a tired look. "That's not a question."

"I mean, you only sell DVDs and blu-rays. And kind-of stale snacks. So, you know… have you thought about a name change? Keep with the times. It might bring in a fresh crowd."

Katniss thinks about Haymitch, probably sleeping one off in the back room. About how he's somehow managed to keep this place afloat, despite the changing tides of the home movie industry.

And she can't help it. She laughs, turning to point through the window at the faded Capitol Video sign outside. "Do you know how much it would cost to change that thing?"

* * *

><p>Saturdays are for Prim, always. And they love Saturdays in the fall the best, because it means the Farmer's Market downtown.<p>

Fresh vegetables and hot cider and sometimes, if they've budgeted right, a couple of just-out-of-the-oven cinnamon donuts.

It's the time of the week that Katniss feels best. Genuinely happy to be with her favorite person in the world, and in her favorite place.

They walk around, greeting the familiar faces of the vendors they've known for years. Sae, and her huge pot of soup. Mags and her endless assortment of crafts for sale.

And then one day in November, Katniss sees another familiar face - one she wasn't expecting to see at all.

Peeta lights up when he sees her. And even from several yards away, she can see that his face has taken on an oddly happy quality that makes her stomach flutter.

She wonders, for a second, if she should pretend not to see him. If their… well, she guesses she might as well call it a friendship by now… is something that extends outside of their little world on the other end of town.

But he walks over to her, a huge fresh loaf of bread in one hand, and before she knows it, she's smiling, too.

"You come here, too?" He asks, by way of greeting.

Katniss nods. "Sometimes, yeah."

She sees the incredulous expression on Prim's face out of the corner of her eye. Because her sister is talking to a boy. And she just _lied_.

It gets awkward for a second. Because Katniss doesn't know how to introduce them to one another.

But then, thankfully, Peeta does the hard part. He extends a hand - the one not holding the bread - down toward her sister.

"Hi, I'm Peeta."

"Prim," she answers, shyly.

Katniss wraps an arm around the small girl, grinning down at her. "Peeta comes into the store a lot."

"I think I'm single-handedly keeping Capitol Video in business these days." Peeta offers up that grin - the one that has so often annoyed her - to her little sister, who instantly mirrors it back to him. She guess she can't blame her. It is pretty infectious.

"You like movies?" Prim asks.

"Love them."

"Me too."

Katniss can't explain the warmth that flows through her as she watches the exchange.

Peeta doesn't stay long - it's almost like he senses that he's intruding on their time. But he offers each of them a chunk of the bread he bought - "the best ever," he insists - before going on his way.

It's still warm. And it is, she has to agree, the best.

* * *

><p>"I hope it was okay for me to come up to you guys like that," Peeta says a few days later. He's leaning on the counter - a common practice now - and something about how quietly they're talking feels dangerously intimate.<p>

Katniss nods. "I think Prim liked you a lot."

"She's really sweet," he acknowledges.

Katniss doesn't disagree.

"You're different around her," he says, almost like he's scared to say it. "You looked really happy."

Another pause.

"It was nice to see that side of you."

Katniss shoots him a wary look as she grabs the box of Sno Caps in his hand and pours a few into her palm. "Well, she doesn't annoy me like you do."

Peeta smiles softly at her, not taking the bait. And she finds that she's struggling to remember the last time he _really _annoyed her at all.

* * *

><p>Peeta's hair is getting longer. She can't help but notice it, the way it curls softly around his ears as the semester wears on.<p>

Sometimes, he wears glasses. But she's happy to see that his eyes are still as blue as ever behind the frames.

The week after Thanksgiving, Peeta rents _The Ice Storm_. And she can feel his eyes on her as she goes through the usual motions.

"What?" She finally asks.

He purses his lips just slightly. "You look really nice today."

Katniss scoffs, hoping it will help to hide how much she's blushing. She glances down at her boring uniform and boring braid so she doesn't have to meet his eye. "I'm wearing the same thing I wear every day."

He takes the movie from her. "Well, then, you look really nice every day."

* * *

><p>The first winter storm - a bad one - hits on a Wednesday in early December. Haymitch is at home for once, claiming a flu that sounds suspiciously like a hangover. So for most of the afternoon, Katniss is alone.<p>

It starts as a soft but persistent snow. And when Peeta walks in to Capitol Video, his hair is covered with melting flakes.

By the time he's done choosing _The Abyss_, there's a white out.

"Hmm," he says as they stand and watch it come down. "Well, at least I have a scraper in my car."

Katniss shakes her head vehemently. "There's no way you're going out there right now. It's not safe."

She takes him in the back, where Haymitch usually is, and offers him a folding chair.

The room smells musty - it always does - but Katniss can't help but notice how much homier it feels with Peeta there to keep her company.

They call their people - Prim, and Finnick, Peeta's roommate - to let them know they won't be home for awhile.

Then they sit.

And Katniss realizes that while they've seen each other almost every day for the last four months, they've never just… been alone like this.

She gets up. Goes to the small mini-fridge that Haymitch stores under his desk and grabs two beers.

"You want one?"

* * *

><p><em>The Abyss<em> is long - so long that it's a three-beer kind of movie. And Katniss is sure it's lost a lot of its cinematic splendor on Haymitch's tiny block of a TV.

But she doesn't really care. Because Peeta, it turns out, is an _excellent_ movie-watching companion.

He provides appropriate commentary - not so much that it's annoying, but enough to make her laugh. Even though he's already seen it, and she hasn't, he doesn't ever say, "Oh, wait 'til you see this." And he doesn't hog the popcorn.

When it's over, it's night, and the storm is still going strong. Katniss isn't nearly as drunk as she planned on being. But she's just buzzed enough to start talking.

"Why'd you come out here today? Didn't you know about the storm?"

Peeta swallows, finishing off his beer and setting it delicately on the floor. "I knew about the storm."

Katniss doesn't take her eyes off him as she waits for more.

"I knew you'd be here. I guess I just… worried."

She's surprised to find that for the first time in months, she's angry at him again. "That was stupid, Peeta. You shouldn't have done it."

He looks at her, a careful quality in his eyes. "Well, I did."

Why does it feel like her heart is in her throat?

"You're really mad?" He asks quietly.

"You don't need to take care of me."

"That wasn't…" Peeta shakes his head. "I know that."

They let the silence fall in. And without words between them, they're left with the hard-blowing wind outside.

Peeta clears his throat before speaking again. "Just when I think I'm starting to figure you out, you throw me."

"You barely know me," Katniss declares, realizing as she says it just how true it is. "How could you have figured me out?"

Peeta shakes his head, a small smile playing on his lips. "I can tell how complicated you are. That you don't let people in. That the way you care about the things you care about is different than most people. Stronger."

Katniss feels his words in her throat, throbbing there nervously. Because he's right.

"How is it that I feel like I know you? When I don't?" He asks.

Katniss swallows hard before she answers. "I don't know."

She doesn't. And she doesn't know how to tell him that she feels the same way. That she doesn't know if he has brothers, or where he went to high school, or what his favorite color is. But she feels like even though she can't predict what he'll rent next, she knows who he _is_.

So she approaches him, quickly, before she loses her nerve. He stands as she gets closer, like he's been waiting for her this whole time.

His hands find her waist, and hers grasp around his neck.

"Okay?" She murmurs before it's too late.

"Please," he rasps back.

When he kisses her, it feels like fire. Not raging, and untamed. But like long-forgotten ashes crumbling apart to reveal a still-burning ember.

And it doesn't take long before she's lost herself in it. The feeling of his mouth, perfect and warm, against hers. The way his hands find her jaw, framing it gently as she pulls him in closer.

She doesn't do this. Kiss people. Not since high school, when she kissed more than she'd care to remember before realizing none of them made her feel any better about herself.

But she can't stop kissing him.

She lets him guide her against the wall, his hand cushioning against the cold cement.

She runs her tongue along his lip, hoping it's enough to get the point across.

When his tongue meets hers a second later, she moans into him, gasping at how _good_ it feels.

Her hands run up his back, one finding its way into his hair. It's just as soft and thick as she expected.

"Is this happening?" Peeta asks, moving his mouth off hers and brushing his lips against her ear.

She answers by hitching a leg around his hips, using her heel to push him against her.

Oh God, he's already so hard.

And she's so wet.

It could happen so easily.

"Oh, fuck, Katniss," he murmurs as he rolls his hips into hers. The friction is agony, perfect but not nearly enough.

So she does something she's only ever seen in movies. Wraps her arms around his neck once more, and uses his body as leverage to lift herself up until she has both legs wrapped around his narrow waist.

Then they're kissing again, frantic and hot as she braces herself against the wall and he begins to thrust slowly against her.

Her eyes meet his when his hips hit just right, and his pupils are fat and full.

She wants him to fuck her - strip off her awful work pants and clamor out of his jeans and just _do_ it.

But she can see in his eyes that he won't. Not here, in the dingy break room. There's a little bit of a romantic in him. Maybe it's the same part of him that came back day after day - the same part that came despite the storm.

It makes her want him more. Makes her need for him almost unbearable. She lifts up into him, seeking his heat, and he responds, grasping at her hip with one hand as he kisses her relentlessly. His tongue moves against hers, matching the rhythm of their hips.

She whimpers against his mouth, fingers grasping the nape of his neck. And she shifts once more, moaning louder when he finally brushes up against her clit.

The pressure is perfect, and she knows she won't last much longer. A moment later, his hand tentatively cups her breast, and his thumb finds her hardened nipple, even through her shirt and bra.

"Katniss, I'm gonna come," he gasps, and she thinks he almost sounds distraught.

"It's okay, I am too," she purrs back.

She thinks she does first. It's hard to tell. They move frantically together, both moaning and swearing and grasping. When her orgasm hits, she tenses against him, letting out a strangled sound as the pleasure ripples mercilessly through her body.

By the time she's done, he is too, still stiff against her, pressing her against the wall as he pants out his ebbing satisfaction against her neck.

They stand there, tangled together, sweaty and out of breath.

And when Peeta apologizes, Katniss laughs.

"For what?"

"You deserved better than that," he says, running a hand through his hair. "Please don't think I just… wanted to… I mean I did, but -"

Katniss kisses him again, gentler now, before disentangling herself from him. "It's okay, I wanted to, too."

Peeta looks almost devastated. "Katniss, I've had this ridiculous fantasy about coming in here one day and asking you over to watch a movie and… doing it right, you know?"

She feels warmth growing in her again - not the kind that leads to desperate kisses, but something that goes just as deep. That he's thought about her.

"So invite me over. We'll watch a movie."

He looks relieved at this.

So she smiles, lifting an eyebrow at him. "My choice."

- end -


End file.
